


inamoratos

by scrapbullet



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst and Feels, Dom/sub Undertones, Ficlet, Multi, Post-Series, Reconciliation, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 15:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12750645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapbullet/pseuds/scrapbullet
Summary: “I never intended staying for long,” Silver murmurs one evening in late November. They lay in bed, the three of them, curled together like spoons in a drawer with Silver in the very middle, curly head resting against Flint’s broad chest. Thomas, lean and strong after years tilling the land, of hard and solid work, fits his chest to Silver’s back as if he were always meant to be there, an arm across Silver’s waist to better cup Flint’s hip. “I wanted to see you well, after all these years. I wanted to see you loved, and content.”





	inamoratos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salatuh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salatuh/gifts).



> Because, darling, you deserve nice things <3
> 
> As always, not beta read.

“I never intended staying for long,” Silver murmurs one evening in late November. They lay in bed, the three of them, curled together like spoons in a drawer with Silver in the very middle, curly head resting against Flint’s broad chest. Thomas, lean and strong after years tilling the land, of hard and solid work, fits his chest to Silver’s back as if he were always meant to be there, an arm across Silver’s waist to better cup Flint’s hip. “I wanted to see you well, after all these years. I wanted to see you loved, and content.”

Loved. _Content._ Such words are anathema to the man known in the Bahamas as Long John Silver - a man who is a legend and a pariah, the kind of monster parents tell their children about to keep them in line. _Don’t stay out too late, Jacob, or else the dread pirate Long John Silver will come to get you._ Love has no place for a man like that. Love has no place for him, and yet he’d travelled day and night to reach the cottage at the edge of the woods to find them.

(To do what, exactly? To watch them from afar? To see their happiness plain as day like the slip-slide of a knife in his belly, the kind of hurt and jealousy that has been festering for months? Or to knock upon their door, to have it answered, to be met with rage and vitriolic words and left bereft?)

 _Instead, this._

Instead, Flint with his sad eyes and bittersweet smile, and Thomas with his questions and sharp logic driving the knife ever deeper… only to end it all with an embrace and an understanding that beggars belief.

“And then slink away with your tail between your legs, I suppose?” Flint, _James_ , murmurs, and the deep rumble of his voice undulates through Silver like the ocean itself. “Leave, before we had an opportunity to clear the air?”

Silver grimaces, teeth bared in a rictus of pain. “There’s still so much to talk about.”

“Undoubtedly, but to err is to be human.” Thomas interjects, who up until this moment has been largely silent but for a low exclamation over the softness of Silver’s buoyant curls, pushing himself up onto one elbow. His lips lift in a charming smile, slightly crooked. “Now, John Silver; you are here. Words have been said, but such things have no place in this bed.”

No, indeed, because for all the melancholy that sits heavy in Silver’s chest he is not immune to the charms of Thomas Hamilton, who guides him back with unerring hands and a sure heart, to grip Silver’s chin and kiss him breathless. His lungs burn with lack of air before he remembers to inhale, drunk on the masculine scent co-mingled with salt and sea. 

“Now that’s a pretty sight,” James murmurs beside Silver, voice like gravel. His wide palm span the taut muscle above Silver’s groin, a reassuring weight and a captivating promise, both, thumb rubbing back and forth over the rim of his navel as Thomas proceeds to lick and bite his way into Silver’s good graces.

When Thomas pulls back, Silver is a wreck. Lips kiss-swollen and red are parted uselessly as the former Lord hums with amusement and presses his thumb into Silver’s mouth, as authoritative now as he surely was nigh on a decade ago. “Perhaps your Mr Silver will stay a while longer, hmm?” he asks James, blue eyes full of mischief. “In our home, in our bed.”

“To make amends?” James replies, leaning over a slack-jawed Silver to lick and nip at Thomas’ mouth; the most salacious of displays. His palm, quick and nimble as ever, slips down to cup Silver’s growing arousal.

 _Yes, let me stay, let me prove myself_ , and Silver gasps, lifted high with promise and possibility, tears in his eyes as James and Thomas draw him into the tangled web of their devising, ever closer to repentance. 

For the first time since he can possibly remember, Silver is content.

(And maybe, just maybe… he will be loved.)


End file.
